Join me by the pool tonight
by Humbuggy
Summary: Allen gets a job at a hotel and is iressistably attracted to the stalkerish, creepy, hot owener of the hotel, with the damm good singing voice. Who knows where this might lead ...? Yaoi,Tyki/Allen. Being redone during extended hiatus.
1. Hail Vodka Rip Off the Russians redone

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Chpt 1~ Hail Vodka! Rip off The Russians!

**BRAT. **

**667 CASTLE RD, Ask for the head of the science department. I've sent him a letter.  
**

**Don't fuck this up.  
Although I can't see how you could possibly fuck this up. **

**Fuck up and I'll kill you.**

**Take a taxi and I'll kill you.  
You can't afford it.  
You still have to pay my debts.**

**Lots of love,  
Cross.  
PS. If you over feed the mutt, I'll kill you.  
PPS. If you under feed the mutt I'll kill you. The mutt's worth more than you.**

The aforementioned 'mutt' panted heavily as he sat down in the relative shade of his master's shadow. His soft furry tail, slightly tufted at the end with golden fur, was carefully arranged so that no part of it ventured off the shaded concrete on to the pavement in the sun that was considerably hotter. A youth, the provider of the puppy's shade, ran a gloved hand through his white hair as he studied the scrap of grubby paper before closing his eyes for a reason that might have been akin to despair. He ran his tongue across dry lips as salty moisture shined above his top lip and beaded slightly in the corners of his mouth. He licked them away, wrinkling his nose slightly at the salt but still enjoying the taste.

The puppy whined slightly beside him and wriggled uncomfortably, the hot pavement beginning to get to him. The puppy's complaints brought the youth back to the problem at hand and he sighed, looking down at his puppy for a moment before studying the paper again. He swore quietly and gave a sigh.

"Damn it Cross, could you leave me a more obscure message than this?" The youth hissed slightly between his teeth and looked up the length of the long road, the traffic wallowed, the car exhaust was making him feel sick, the traffic lights placed at every junction changed colours in an odd pattern, never letting more than a few cars pass each time. The tall glass buildings seemed to shimmer like mirages, the concrete buildings, ugly, squat and annoying seemed to wilt, sagging under the weight of the sun's glare. Mixed in with the modern skyscrapers and 1980's style concrete high-rises; the low sandstone buildings with their graceful columns, intricate carvings and elegantly decorated roofs the colour of oxidized green, seemed to radiate cool. The spaces between the columns on the front steps promised a shady place to sit, something aided by the hi-rises that blocked the sun at all times but midday.  
He turned to check the number of the building beside him as the puppy at his feet gave another whine and began to wriggle even more vigorously, as the heat began to become slightly more painful, the youth was oblivious to the puppy's complaints.

One hundred and _sixteen._ Building one hundred and _six fucking teen. _He thought bitterly. There was no way in hell that he was going to walk 554 house lengths. No way in hell. But the message that Cross had given him was clear, _...I'll kill you. You can't afford it. You still have to pay my debts._ He hesitated, still unsure, although Cross didn't usually try to carry out his numerous death threats, there was still that slim chance...  
The puppy gave a sudden and high pitched yelp of distress and leapt up, whimpering in pain; the concrete pavement had become too hot to bear. The puppy danced around in agitation, what had been hot on his fur and skin, burnt his soft paw pads unbearably, so painfully he could not stand still. The teenager glanced down at his puppy and, seeing the way that the puppy was dancing around franticly, gave a slight cry of distress. He dropped his sports bag and bent on one knee, ignoring the heat that burnt through his pants and gathered the puppy up in his arms. The puppy whimpered once more as the youth hissed in remorse as he inspected the puppy's burnt paw pads.

"Fuck that," He muttered, he didn't care what Cross had said. That was the final straw. He was going in a taxi; He could always retrieve the money in some shady casino later anyway, just as long as his 'old man' disguise was completely foolproof. It was ridiculously tiring to have to find another casino if his disguise was seen through. Although that had happened only once, it wasn't his fault, how was he to know that old people didn't wear superman capes and masks when they went out gambling? He blamed Cross for that little blunder, after all it had been that womanising red head who told him that. But then again, seeing as he had never made it past the door, he didn't really count that as people seeing through his disguise, as he hadn't really been wearing one, unless you count a Superman costume as an appropriate cover. Holding the puppy with one arm, he used his right hand to open his bag and shuffle something's around to make room for his puppy, he pulled out a jacket and dumped it unceremoniously on the pavement before carefully placing his puppy inside the bag, zipping it up so the puppy could look out and move a little, but not much else. He tied his jacket around his waist and bent down to pick up his sports bag. The puppy strained to lick his face gratefully, he laughed at that and went to hail down a passing cab, biding the puppy to stay down and hidden. A taxi pulled up to the curb and he climbed in and sighed appreciatively. It was blissfully cool inside.

The driver didn't even look back as he began to log numbers into an electronic pad, muttering to himself as he did so. The teen carefully slid his bag between his feet, giving his puppy's head a caress before pushing the animal's head down. People weren't technically allowed to have animals in taxis, but the youth was not afraid to bend the rules or even break them in certain situations. At all others times the law was 'strictly observed" or something like that.

The driver finished fiddling around with his electronic pad and straightened up; placing his hands on the wheel, he drummed a one second finger-drum solo. Examining the choked traffic for an opening, the driver glanced in the rear mirror and asked. "Okay, where do you want to go?" except to the youth it sounded like 'Okey! Wh're doo youu wan' tuh go?" but he had no trouble deciphering what the taxi driver was saying, years of travelling with Cross had given the teen a gift for guessing what people were saying, whether it was in Mongolian or a slightly demented form of English. But on this occasion... He shone a brilliant smile at the driver; the teen had a feeling that the driver was speaking weirdly it to annoy him as the driver looked as capable of proper English as he was i.e. a lot.

It was at times like these when the teen followed the age old adage; "when in doubt, be obnoxiously polite". Cross had always followed a different view, "if you want something, seduce someone who has it until you get it from them". But most of the time Cross ignored the "if you want something" bit and had sex with the person in question anyway simply because he could. But the teen was not of the ilk as Cross and was polite to the person, rather than having sex with them.  
"Would it be at all possible to be taken to number six hundred and sixty seven, Castle Road?" As the youth spoke, the driver seemed to do a double take, peering at the rear view mirror again, shocked he cried, 'You're not an old man, you're just a boy!"

The teens smile grew to a brilliant proportion, his hunch was correct; the driver was capable of normal speech. The driver's face flamed red, realising that he had just made light of the fact that he had been speaking strangely to annoy his passenger, not to mention that he'd thought that his passenger was an elderly man. The driver tried to cover his mistake, or at least amend it, stumbling for words. "Uh, um, sorry, it was just with your with hair that I, uh, um" The drivers face burned and the youth decided to take pity on the man, through his smile did not change. He did, however, feel a stab of vindictiveness and couldn't help but give a sly jab at the driver for first mistaking him for an old geezer and then a small kid. Short be might be, but he was no child. Not anymore. "It is no problem; I am often mistaken for an elderly male or a young child. I am well used to it." The teen gave no acknowledgement to the pinch in his words as the driver burned a deeper shade of crimson.  
"Uh, yeah, Sorry about that." The driver cleared his throat awkwardly, tapping his fingers on the wheel of the cab nervously. The teen's softer side gave in and he softened his smile a little bit, deciding to let the uncomfortable moment pass.  
"My name is Allen, Allen Walker. You are?"  
The driver gave an easy smile, pleased that his passenger, or Allen as his name was, had let the moment pass so easily "Archie Seeker, but most people just call me Seeker."  
Allen nodded slowly; Seeker had a simple air, and seemed to like practical jokes and slapstick comedy. He had the feel of a dog who wanted to do nothing better than to please. He was balding slightly and all the hours of sitting in a cab had given him a small beer belly. He also, judged Allen, probably suffered from some a very mild kind of hyper activity disorder, if only from the way he seemed unable to stop moving, even if it was just his pinkie finger. And speaking of unable to stop moving, Allen's puppy had started to wriggle. He placed a gentle hand on the top of the animals head; the puppy calmed down and stopped fidgeting. His burnt paws were obviously not painful enough to stop moving. The taxi lurched forward as Seeker found a gap in the floundering traffic; Allen had to fake a major coughing fit to mask his puppy's yelp of surprise.

Once in the main 'flow' of traffic, the taxi crawled along, a turtle in a dry river. It wasn't as fast as walking may have been, but _hell_ was it easier and it gave Allen time to see the city that would be his new place of residence. He had stopped calling places home long ago, for him home would be where he had buried his heart. Allen's throat tightened and his face grew hot; his puppy's soft eyes gazed at Allen, worried about his master's sudden change of mood. Gladdened for the distraction and warmed by the care, Allen smiled gently at him. His liquid silver eyes gazed quietly into gentle brown ones. Timcampy had always looked out for him, but he did get a little nippy if you didn't feed him or pay him enough attention. Timcampy's ears pricked up, and he grinned back at Allen before disappearing back into the bag, reassured by his master's smile. Allen turned to look out the window, studying the people on the street and the buildings.

Quite frankly it looked much like any other major city Allen had ever been in, but there was one thing that he noticed, there were many more old sandstone buildings, some were on the edges of grassy squares full of tree's and statues, other were placed between glass corporate buildings. He also saw certain things that he just itched to paint, things like the flock of pigeons scattering in flight from a blue haired child in a school uniform who was wielding an odd looking umbrella or the small tree sapling growing in the facade of one of the sandstone buildings. This city was a strange mixture of old and new, weathered and derelict, shiny and modern

Unfortunately, all his painting gear was in his sports bag, underneath Timcampy and there was no way to get at them without moving the puppy. Allen only ever carried what was absolutely necessary, the only thing that deviated from this rule was his painting stuff, and those he refused to leave behind. None of it was of very good quality especially the brushes. He had once tried to make his own brushes from Timcampy's fur or locks of Allen's snow white hair, but in the end he had saved up to buy some cheap, kiddie, bristle brushes. They weren't very good for watercolour or even acrylic or oil paint, but better than nothing and he could take them from country to country, regardless of quarantine restrictions.

Allen had once dreamt of making a living from his paintings, but he had never been to art school and by the time he had finished a painting to a saleable standard and had managed to sell it, they were already being chased by debt collectors. Allen had had to turn to a more profitable way of making money. Fortunately for him, selling his body had never been an option, not with his...birthmark, besides the very idea of prostitution sent bile climbing up Allen's throat. Not that Cross had cared; he'd pay their rate and make them fall in love with him, so much so that they'd have sex without demanding payment. It was often then that Allen would go out to make money, it was better than listening to Cross and however many moaning bitches. Allen had long ago ceased to think of them as women.

Thinking about money made Allen wonder how much this taxi ride would cost, he wasn't sure if he had enough. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered wallet, the initials M.W could just be seen, faded almost to the point of invisibility. In one of the pockets a slip of yellowed, folded paper could just be seen. There was also a sketch of Timcampy looking even smaller than he did now, in one of the photo pockets. The rest of the contents of the wallet consisted of two ten and three five dollar notes as well as three dollars in coins. Allen counted these out and his heart clenched, he was in trouble; if he couldn't find some cash tonight, chances were that he'd be sleeping up a tree come nightfall. Cross had told him nothing about this _science department_ or even what department it was of, it could be scientific testing on latex clothing in the Army for all Allen knew. But in the meantime, it looked like he had enough for the taxi fare. However, Allen just wanted to be sure.

He lent forward and reached out a gloved hand to tap Seeker on the shoulder but then changed his mind and leant back in the seat, lowering his hand and clearing his throat tentatively. Seeker turned his head slightly, still keeping his eyes on the road ahead. Allen spoke apologetically, dropping the butler polite tone he had used before hand, but still retaining a courteous manner. "Excuse me Mr Seeker,"  
'Mr' Seeker interrupted cheerily, "Seeker, just Seeker. Mr Seeker makes me sound like an Eton schoolboy or some paedophiliac old geezer."  
Allen gave a faint smile, pretending to share the joke. At any other time he would have managed a laugh, but he was straining to even smile right now. He had no idea what this place was like, still it was decent of Cross to actually give him an address this time. Allen had little fond memories of the time where Cross had packed him off to Mexico with a place to go to but nothing but a last name to find it with. He would be a lot less stressed when he found out what this _science department _was.  
"Seeker" amended Allen, "could you tell me how much the fare will cost?"  
"Uh, about eighteen dollars but," Seeker turned towards Allen and leaned in confidentially, knowing that the red light would not go green for about a minute or two, "you're British right?"  
"Yes, why do you ask?" replied Allen cautiously and with no little suspicion, years of living and travelling with Cross had taught Allen to be wary of questions like the one that Seeker had just asked.  
"I knew it!" Crowed Seeker, beaming and slightly exultant, "Any way, seeing as your British, fifteen dollars only."  
Allen grinned, a true smile this time, relaxing at Seekers tone of voice. "Seriously? Wow, thank you Seeker, but may I ask why?"  
Seeker shrugged and grinned widely. "Your accent's fucking awesome. Besides, you'll need it where you're going".  
Allen stilled and the grin faded from his lips as he shared a wary look with Timcampy, his anxiety returned ten-fold.

Seeker pulled up in the drive of a very large and very swanky looking hotel. It was a curious mix of glass sky scraper and restored sandstone building. Limousines pulled in to the curved driveway almost after every fourth car, all the cars were shiny with names like Porsche, Rolls Royce, B.M.W just to name a few of the lower cost brands. Orange taxi's pulled up in a constant stream on the street. Allen had never hyperventilated before, but if he was about to start, it would be now.

Seeker swung around to look at his passenger merrily, unaware of any problems that Allen was currently having. "Well, we're here. The Black Order Hotel, widely acknowledged as being the jewel of the Millennium Hotel chain. The cheapest room is what, $4,000 a night or something; it's more than my wages. It's for the elite only but that shouldn't be a problem for you. Probably." Seeker looked at Allen and frowned; the teen was as pale as his hair, the strange, red, pentangle mark over his left eye stood out like blood on new snow. "Are you okay?" Seeker was beginning to suspect that something was wrong.  
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Allen's voice was faint and slightly strained. His right hand was picking, compulsively so it seemed, at the cuffs of his left sleeve.  
"Yep," nodded Seeker, "Unless my eyes deceive me, it is."  
This was meant to be a joke as the number 667 was displayed in large gold writing right beside the Taxi but it fell slightly flat at the nonexistent laughter of his passenger.  
"Thank you, so much" Allen managed a faint smile before he got out of the taxi dazedly, leaving the door open, before toddling off in the general direction of the front entrance.

Seeker watched him; the poor kid looked so shell-shocked that Seeker decided not to press him about the taxi fare. He could hike up the fare for some fat, rich, Russian. Seeker hated Russians but for some odd reason, loved vodka. He supposed that it was his mixed blood, German, Russian, Italian, and any of the 'slavians you could think of took residence in his veins. Must be why he had such a weird nature. Still, the only reason that he believed that Russia should have even been created in the first place was for its invention of vodka. _Hail vodka, rip of the Russian_s was his motto, and god be thanked for that. He heard some frantic scratching and weird fabric/animal noises behind him, but ignored them as he watched the teen run into a bellhop, bash into some luggage and somehow make it through the rotating doors, ignoring the already open doors just beside them.

"Poor kid," muttered Seeker sympathetically, "it's as if he's never seen bellboys with gold buttons before". Reaching back to pull the passenger door shut, he rolled the taxi forward as a slow, slightly evil smile spread over his face, "Oh _good_, We eat tonight. My girlfriend _will_ be pleased." Approaching his taxi were (joy to his heart) some rich, fat Russians.

_Hail vodka,_ thought Seeker devoutly as he took a small sip from his battered silver jacket flask, _and rip off the Russians._


	2. Intercom cord RD

Alrighty Tyki allen fans! another Redo! Hopefully I can get you another redo before boxingday. If you have already read the non redo, do read the redo! Yeah?  
Cool!  
ADB SAYS: Humbuggy DOES NOT OWN. *MUMBLE* (slave driver)  
KK reader! read on!

* * *

Thoughts scattered through Allen's head, incomprehensible, chasing their tails like flashes of lightning, over and under, dissipating like wisps of smoke, rolling around and over and under until he began to mumble, muttering phrases and incomplete words, spilling over his lips in choppy whisper until all he could see were the words that twisted his gut into a thousand butterfly knots. "Black order, jewel of the millennium hotel chain, got to be rich, more than my wages , cheapest room…4000 a night, for the elite only …"

A sunburst of sudden pain exploded above his eyes, waking him from his state of delirious shock "Huh?" went Allen, stupidly.

"Are you okay, sir?" An impeccably polite voice came from somewhere above Allen; he blinked confused, a head wearing horn rimmed glasses and a funny hat was looking down on him. For a moment Allen's thoughts scattered then recollected and he realized that he was lying on a cold marble floor in the quiet lobby of The Black Order Hotel, his fore head throbbing. Allen couldn't remember where, or when, he had banged it.

The porter was still waiting for an answer.

"Uh, Umm, I think so" Allen sat up cautiously, putting a gloved hand to his forehead. "What happened? Did I faint? Please tell me that I didn't faint."

Distain dripped of the man's thin lips. "I believe you walked into a column, sir"

Allen looked up and sure enough there was a large, shiny, black granite column. Feeling stupid and idiotic, he took a closer looked at the man. Dressed in the porter's uniform of the hotel, he looked immaculate, quite unlike, Allen realized, his sweaty travel worn self.

The porter looked Allen up and down, taking in his converses (black), jeans (dark blue, almost black) and long sleeved shirt (black) with the holes in the collar, courtesy of Allen's odd puppy Timcampy. The porter continued, "If you looking for the soup kitchen, it's not here."

Alle felt a sudden wash of black hate that hazed his eyes. He knew what the porter was talking about; Any teen with white hair and a scar the looked like a tattoo "Must" have come from the wrong side of the track. He hated the stereotyping that he was always subjected to in normal society. He hid anger behind a smiling demeanour, letting the polite and gracious mask wash over him even as red heat scorched his face.

"I see, thank you so much for your trouble, truly my dog and I shall be going to our suite now. Please tell your manger that I give my warmest thank you to such an _understanding_ _bellboy_. You must tell him that you have the manners of the assistants in the expensive Hong Kong shops; the resemblance you have to them is truly remarkable- you must get so _many_ people talking to your boss about you. Please tell your boss all about this exchange of ours, I very sure that you would find yourself with another job soon after." Allen gave a shining smile and swanned off, leaving the porter with the distinct feeling of having been insulted and threatened, but somehow unsure _why._ The porter glanced about, and decided that the thickset man in the expensive suite was eating his rock-candy too loudly, sending a crushing sound throughout the foyer, and moved over to tell him off.

Allen stopped behind another of the columns, hiding himself from view. It was there that he allowed the blush that had been threatening for a while to completely take over as he brushed the dirt off his jeans and shirt and glanced around for Timcampy. With a sinking feeling he realised what he had just left in the taxi; his bag and everything inside it. Allen froze, _Timcampy. Oh crap.  
_White faced, he cast about the foyer desperately looking for his puppy on the odd chance that Tim had the sense to follow him. He sank to the floor in despair feeling helpless, Timcampy was his only friend. The puppy was the only one who had ever stuck by him; Allen knew that was because he fed him, but still. To think of his odd little puppy in a taxi with his bag and _all_ his painting gear was unbearable. Because he had his back to the granite column and was facing away from the front door he missed a small golden animal pulling a grey sport-bag up the front steps and into the foyer.

"Damn it." Whispered Allen, sinking his face into his hands; he was supposed to find some 'Science division' , Cross was probably out drinking and racking up debts on tight whores, he had basically no money, his bag and all his shit was on a taxi somewhere and oh yes, to top it all off, he lost his dog. Things were just _soo_ not going his way today. Clenching his fists for a second, he stood up.  
"First things first. Find this science division, and then find Tim, then my bag. But I should probably check if he's had enough sense to follow me." He clenched his fists again then stood up, raising two fingers to his lips he gave a high pitched whistle that cracked about the room like a whip, he could only be glad that there were only a few people in the foyer but he had a feeling that that porter would be here in a couple of seconds if Tim didn't turn up.

He waited patiently for a couple of seconds, fisting his hands on the edges of his shirt. Footsteps sounded but they were not the clicking sound of Tim's paws but the clack of smart shoes on marble.  
Allen began a countdown in his mind. _Five. Four. Three. Two. One.  
_"Excuse me."  
_Blast off.  
_"Yes?" Said Allen turning and giving a shining smile to the same porter who had 'talked' to him before, "How may I help you, _sir"  
_The porter blinked, but hiding his surprise he continued on in a dry tone, "I will ask you to refrain from wolf-whistling in the Black Order's foyer. If you do it again the management shall have to reprimand you and you may be asked to leave the premises."  
Allen continued to smile, "I am terribly sorry, but I seem to have misplaced my dog. I will be going as soon as I have located him." Allen tuned on his heel then spun around again seeming to have an afterthought, "By the way, you do you, perchance, know where I may be able to find the head of the Science Division."_  
_The porter froze, not seeming to believe his ears lifting a hand that trembled like a withered autumn leaf pointing it at Allen, "You are looking for the science division?" his voice shook and his words came out in a stutter.  
Allen nodded slowly, survival instincts screaming, "That is correct, yes."  
"I, I... You're mad do you know that? Mad!" Shouted the porter suddenly, " Looking for-for that man! Mad I tell you! Utterly cracked! Crazy, loony! Mad!" the porter began to cackle, giant whooping laughs but his eyes were wide and unseeing. "It's That way! The black door! But mad, you are mad aren't you? You're as bad as the rest of them. There something not quite right with you isn't there? Because you're mad! Cracked, crazy maaaadddd... You – you stay away from me. Stay away I tell you! You're as bad as them. Crazy! wild! Mad! You're madder than a hatter! Madder- cracked crazy Touched in the head!"  
Allen retreated hurriedly as the porter began to laugh and laugh and laugh, suddenly accusing and then feral eyed again. Allen glanced around wildly, looking for an escape as the porter continued to advance. What could be so _terrible_ that the porter would be reduced to a gibbering shouting animal?  
"Look! I just need to find my dog and then I'll be gone okay? And you will never have to talk about 'that place' again, ok? I just need to find my dog, and then, and then I'll leave. Just have you seen my dog?"

The man calmed down rapidly, snapping back to his normal (?) self incredibly fast. His feral eyes calmed down within the horn-rimmed glass frames, the hat, although perched at a strange angle was no longer being wrung like a handkerchief. The man pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted his hat.  
"I do believe there is a dog over there, perhaps it fits the description of the creature that you are looking for?" His paper dry tones belied any sarcasm as the porter looked pointedly at a small golden puppy galumphing up and down the lobby hall, jumping on furniture and barging through and over luggage, pots and people. Allen spun around, hope painted on his face with a silver gleam. "Timcampy" whispered Allen elatedly as he set eyes on his golden puppy who chewing on a leather suitcase three times his size.  
"Timcampy! Come here boy!" The puppy looked up, his entire face seemed to light up as the puppy laid eyes on his personal pantry. Timcampy, the porter noticed, had an odd marking of a large white cross on his face. The puppy gave the suit case a final bite, completely shredding the leather off, took a running leap, flew gracefully and fell into Allen's outstretched arms. Allen smiled blissfully as he inhaled his pet's almond scent.

A warm glow seemed to envelop the porter as he gazed at the pair. His initial urge to mark them as undesirables and get them out of the hotel as fast as possible paled in the light of the youths eyes. They were silvery and unaccountably soft as the teen whispered endearments into the puppy's ears. Painful pangs came from within the vicinity of his chest and his breath rattled up from his thickened throat. An over-whelming urge swamped Percy Davis (part time porter and full time stick up the arse) to protect the boy; to love him and hold him throughout the cruelness of an uncertain world and dark night. He disliked it immediately; his experiences of love and lust were limited to late night forays into the strange world of internet porn. Still the pangs of _something_ continued on and he coughed into his hand. "Sir, I am afraid that dogs are not allowed on the premises, I am afraid that I will have to ask you to leave him outside."

Allen looked up from Timcampy and put the puppy on the floor, the animal promptly started to attack his shoelaces, giving comical growls and wide eye pants of excitement, burnt paws forgotten. Allen brushed his hair out of his eyes and drew himself up straighter, silver eyes cold and gleaming. It was such a change from before that Percy Davis (part time porter and full time stick up the arse) almost took a step back.  
Allen lifted his chin proudly, "I think that you shall find that he and I shall be going, but first I must find out if he brought my bag with him, before finding the science division. Please point out its direction; I have a meeting with its head." Allen chose his words deliberately, tone polite but ice sharp.

The porter went white. Ghost white. Fear white. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He gasped, choking on words, yells, screams. Again he raised a trembling hand, pointing out the way with a finger the jumped and shuddered.

"Thank you" said Allen coolly, his calm exterior gave no hint of the fact that he was mentally screaming in terror. What the HELL had Cross gotten Allen into _this_ time. Unbidden painful memories leapt into being. He quickly banished them and looked down at Tim.

"Let's hope it's not illegal this time, eh Timcampy?" The Puppy looked up adoringly at his self serve buffet and grinned.

"Illegal?" the porter whispered, swayed on his feet, rolled back his eyes and fell in a dead faint on the floor.

"Crap" said Allen, gazing at the swooning porter and around to see if there were any witnesses. "Come on Tim; let's go find this 'science division', at least before the cops get here. I don't particularly want to do anymore time, it gets repetitive after a while. But first..." he knelt and looked Tim straight in the eye, "Tim, did you bring my bag? Get my bag Tim. Get the bag." Tim gave a yawn and plonked his butt down on the floor. Allen, sighed and rooted in his pocket. His fingers grasped the bit of dried liver treat and he pulled it out, waving it invitingly before Tim's nose. The puppy's eyes lit with a greedy light and he licked his chops.  
"Come on Tim," Allen cajoled, "get the bag, come on, there's a good boy, get the bag and you get a treat, hmm? Go on, get my bag."  
Tim leapt up and raced across the foyer leaping over anything in his way. He returned dragging Allen's grey sports bag. Allen grinned and flicked the dog treat high into the air. "_Good dog._" He praised and slung the bag onto his shoulder. He slapped his thigh twice as she strode off in the direction of the science division, Tim obligingly falling into step at his heel.

Allen scratched his head as he stared at the black door before him. There was a tiny plaque on it that said 'Science Division' but apart from that there was nothing, there was no handle, there door knob, hell, there wasn't even a thing marked 'Push'. But even if there was a thing marked push, it wouldn't open any way because Allen had tried pushing, and pulling. Feeling a little stupid and more than slightly pissed he decided to give it one last shot before giving it up as a bad job and trying to find another way to get there. Placing the fingers of his right hand on the plaque, he applied a slight pressure and spoke the words "Science division". The Doors slid oped with the hushed whisper of machinery. Allen sucked in a breath and entered the room, he stopped almost immediately

The room was small and about the size of an average elevator or a very large cupboard. _No_, Allen realized with wide eyes. This _was_ an elevator. Artfully panelled with cherry wood and carvings of boats, this was the most damn fancy lift that Allen had ever been in, infact it was probably the _only_ fancy lift that Allen had ever been in. Glancing around he saw no shagging couples in the corner, no used a discarded syringes, no puddles of blood and it was mercifully free of the smell of piss. It seemed that nothing as too good for the Black Order. Looking for the buttons he was surprised to find only two. One said _open/close._ The other said _In case of Kanda. _What the hell was a 'Kanda'? Shrugging, Allen pressed the open/close button and like mechanics, the doors closed with a hushed murmer and the elevator floated upwards.

A small while later, the elevator doors opened into an airy lobby with black furnishings. Timcampy bounded out happily and looked about for leather. There wasn't any. The puppy settled for a chair leg. His owner meanwhile walked nervously to the lobby desk (black). The woman behind it looked up disinterestedly.

"Yes?" She asked, her nasal voice grated against Allen's ears. Allen swallowed nervously, calling saliva into a parched throat.

"Hello, I am here to see the head of the Science division." He tightened his fingers on the strap of his bag.

"And who might you be?" The woman's gaze was distinctly bored as she tapped her long fake nails (pink) on the black granite of the lobby desk.

"My name is Allen Walker, Miss. My Master, Cross told me to come here. He's the one who gave me the instructions. He said he sent a letter."

A spark of interest lit in the receptionist's eyes. "Did you say Cross, like, Cross Marian? The man with the half mask, did you just say him?" her excitement was obvious in her voice; the nasal tones grew more pronounced and high pitched.

"Yes." Said Allen guardedly, his eyes hooded and posture tensed.

"God fuck my sainted soul. We have like half of the order out looking for him" The woman's jaw dropped in amazement.

Allen was instantly angry, this meant one thing and one the only.

"That stupid man!" he seethed, "That idiotic bugger's done something illegal again hasn't he?" Allen's anger was quickly turning to panic. The receptionist was viewing his outburst with increasing astonishment as she watched Allen's hands fly to either side of his head.

"Crap Timcampy, I'm not even there to bail him out again! What the hell am I going to do? Shit, Shit, _Shit. _"

The puppy looked up from his (now demolished) chair leg, whined and pawed the ground.

"I know," Allen replied to Tim's silent answer. "I know. But I don't even know where he _is_. This is just _typical_. I leave him with for a week and he gets arrested. For the Gods sake, he hadn't gotten himself arrested for a _month_. I was aiming for a record! I bet you a meaty bone Tim, that he got himself arrested for seducing a Sultans _entire_ harem again. Oh Damn him!" He slammed both hands on the desk and hung his head, hair falling over his eyes.

The receptionist curled her lip sardonically and ran a hand through her honey blond hair. "Yeah, that precisely why we want to find him. Crimes against Sultan and for the over seducing of women in Harems." she snorted sarcastically, "No. The real reason that we want to find Cross is that he works here, supposedly, but he took a paid holiday to France and never came back. He still gets paid you know"

Allen shook his head in disagreement at the woman's last statement. Tim squirmed delightedly on the thick, plush carpet, ignoring the exchange between his master and the woman.

Allen raised his head to stare the receptionist in the eye. "No that's not true, He's constantly in debt, so I to find ways to pay it off. If I can't find the money or can't earn enough, we usually start running to the nearest border. The stupid man's wanted in five countries."

The woman raised an eyebrow, "I see. Well, you would know where he is, you're, like, his apprentice-" She broke off as Allen was already shaking his head.

"I can't help you find him; I don't know where he is either. The last time I saw him, he was muttering about finding a bar with a hookah and some decant prostitutes." Allen sighed and ran a hand through his shock of white hair, completely oblivious to the fact that, due to his despair, he was now waist deep in carpet.

"So, that was, like, when he was in like, paki land?" The receptionist tapped a curved talon on her lips.

"Turky," Allen corrected, "He is most likely wanted there to by now."

"Turkey - Paki land, whatevs. I'll buzz you up to Komui now" Briskly pressing a button on the (black) intercom, she spoke into the receiver. "Komui? You there? Yeah, anyways, I have, Like, an Allen Walker here. He says that Cross Marian sent him, oh. Nope, he is definitely human. Looks about, huh? What? He's got a mutt with a white cross on its face so Cross certainly sent him. Oh, okay. Yeah, Sure, Whatever, I'll get on it." Turing the intercom off, she swivelled around to look at Allen who was slowly being regurgitated by the carpet.

"Okay sweetie, Komui's sent someone over, so you can sit over there" she pointed to a large ottoman (black) underneath a display of medieval weapons (the weapons were white). Allen resented being called sweetie. He was not candy and nor was he small. Okay, so maby he was short, but he was still _not_ candy. Allen sighed and sat down on the ottoman, Tim jumping up and joining him, sinking his head into Allen's lap. Allen gave a small smile and began running his hand over the cross on his dog's face. Ten Minutes later a door to the left of the desk opened and in stormed and person wearing black, the standard uniform colour of The Black Order and with a face like thunder.  
"Right, I'm here, where the fuck is this new freak? I've other shit that I fucking want to do."

Allen waited patiently for the person to notice him. Whoever this was had a supremely dirty mouth. She? Had long black hair tied in a pony tail, wearing a long black coat that looked like it was directly of the set of _matrix_ and black steel capped combat boots, the very sight of this person annoyed Allen. He was still waiting to be noticed and couldn't work out if the person was a man or a woman.

"Ah, How are you Kanda?" the receptionist fluttered her eyelashes and lent forward a little so the shadows between her breasts deepened. Was the receptionist lesbian? Allen still couldn't work out if this Kanda was a man or woman.

Kanda glared at her. "None of your fucking business, where the bloody fuck is this fucking new freak? I have shit that I want to fucking do."

This Kanda really _did_ have a dirty mouth. He still couldn't work out if Kanda was a woman or a man.

"Kanda, can't you stay for a little longer" The receptionist sounded kind of desperate.

Allen tossed up both choices and checked them for suitability. Man or woman? Woman or man? It seemed that Kanda's next words would determine his/her gender.

Distain poured out of Kanda as he/she glared at the woman now clinging frantically to his/her hand. "Get. Off. Me." Each word was pronounced with the utmost articulacy. Shocked, the receptionist dropped kanda's hand. "How many times do I have to tell you? I. Don't. Love. You. I. Never. Have." Yep. That settled it. Kanda was a man. No doubt about it.

"Kanda, please," she pleaded. She was begging now

"No."

She lunged for Kanda's arm and clung on. "Please Kanda, I love you."

The disdain and anger was now visibly rolling off Kanda. "Piss off, Woman." He growled staring at the whimpering receptionist on his arm with disgust, like she was a plauge carrying rat that he didn't wat to see. The woman pulled herself onto the desk, fingernails scrabbling forward, whimpering like a kicked puppy. Desperate to prove her love, and mindless of what might happen to her if she went too far, she latched a hand around his neck and planted a single desperate kiss onto his lips. The kiss lingered and she pulled away, gazing hopefully into his eyes, as if, by the very force of her undying and single minded love for him, that, by this one act that she had somehow managed to change his mind and cause him to fall hopelessly in love with her. No such luck.

Kanda began to tremble with something that went beyond fury. He gave a low snarl and went for the Katana hanging by side in a single fluid movement, movement fast as lightning, objective – death of the receptionist.  
Before Allen had even consciously registered the movement, he had grabbed Kanda's wrist to stop his swing. The sword stopped a centimetre away from the woman's neck. The receptionist broke down sobbing.

"Who the, _Fuck_, are you?" Kanda glared down at Allen who stared coolly back at him.

"My name is Allen Walker, Komui sent you to get me."

Kanda jerked his arm out of Allen's hold and sheathed his sword. "You're a fucking Moyashi." He observed.

Allen's hackles rose, he had no idea what Moya-wayashi meant but he didn't like it. "And you're a woman with a dirty mouth."

Kanda snarled at him and flexed his fingers. "Fucking Moyashi."

Before Allen could answer in return, a cracking noise issued from above "Kanda! Yoo-Who! You there? Get to my office already, and bring my esca- sorry – And bring Allen Walker with you!"

"Che" muttered Kanda in distain "Come on."

He turned swiftly before heading out the same door that he had come from. Allen frowned and hesitated, but then shrugged. At least he had actually _found_ the place within the day.

He left the receptionist quietly sobbing behind him.

She was fashioning a noose with intercom cord.

* * *

Alright! Sweet! Big Shout out to Reddoggie! I wrote the bit about the porter with your comments in mind! Cheers to the people who read this, loved it and faved and reviewed. bigger cheers to the poeple WHO ARE GOING TOO.  
I don't beta, so if you see spelling mistakes, Point it out to me! Reviews all around. I usually check out the stories of people who reveiw sooo. Hmm. Keep reading keep reveiwing!


	3. Room full of leather

another chapter redo, i've made it longer but funnier and there's more of komui in this one, plus some info about the science divison it's self.

ADB says: DOSN"T OWN!

Read on!

* * *

Komui jumped up excitedly from his desk and straightened his hat.  
He sat down.  
He jumped up, strode two paces towards the door then turned and sat in his chair again. Tapping his fingers against his desk in a funny kind of drum roll, he spun his leather office chair around multiple times squealing out "WHEEE" as he did so, sounding like a sugar hyped kid on crack. His fluffy duck slippers were flung to the opposite ends of the room. He ran over to get them and then flung his self bodily into his chair. Pulling faces for a second, he gave a manic grin that plastered itself all over his face and he jumped up again; too energized to sit, and ran to the window. He was halfway there when he spun on his heel, did a small twirl and then flung himself back onto his chair again. Needless to say, he was on a coffee withdrawal.

Bouncing up and down in his chair for a bit, he gave a large moan and slumped on his desk, beret flopping over his forehead. He blew at a few stray stands of hair and crossed his eyes. He had been stuck in his office for 1 hour 10 minutes 26 seconds and 23-4-5-6-7 milliseconds _without coffee _and could feel his sanity slipping with every silent tick of his black wall clock.  
This was not good. He could not work without coffee. He could not manage without his coffee. Komui, in short, needed his coffee. He stared into space; pondering on the dilemma of the missing coffee, and how he could obtain said item.

Idly pressing the intercom button for his secretary, he heard only the busy shuffling of paper and muted click of a hundred-word-a-minute secretary at work who was typing with one hand. He had never worked out how they could do that but- COFFEEEeeee.  
The little Komuis' in his brain screamed for coffee, they _screeched_ for coffee, there was no time to get his secretary to get him coffee, the only way to get it would be to go there himself and get his coffee. It also had the added advantage of escaping from his office and the paper that decorated the room in teetering piles and the occasional white-out as, every so often, a paper pile would collapse. His manic smile was replaced by a sly look as he slid his eyes around the room. It would be difficult, but he would complete his mission, avoiding death, work and insanity all at once.

He slithered off his chair and slunk to the door.  
He reached out for the handle and snuck a finger on it.  
"KOMUI, GET BACK TO YOUR DESK! YOUSE'RE NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE THIS ROOM!" The thick Australian accent came booming out of the intercom on Komui's desk and a screech and a cracking noise.

Komui froze. _Shit. Reever. Damn._ Casting his eyes around, he sought desperately for an excuse. "I am at my desk Reever. I'm, uh, looking at some papers." He called loudly. _That'll fool him. He can't complain about that. Eheheh._ Komui restrained a chuckle at his genius; He always had the best excuses.

"DON'T BULLSHIT ME KOMUI. YOU HAVE YOUR INDEX FINGER ON THE HANDLE OF THE DOOR."

Komui squeaked. "How did you kno- uh, I mean, no I don't." Komui inched another finger onto the handle.

"I JUST TOLD YOU NOT TO BULLSHIT ME KOMUI. AND GET YOUR FINGERS OFF THE HANDLE! NOW GET BACK TO THAT DESK"

Komui's shoulders slumped in defeat. "How did you know?"

Raucous galah laughter exploded from the intercom. "YOU ALWAYS USE 'LOOKING AT SOME PAPERS' WHEN YOU LIE ABOUT THESE THINGS, EVEN IF I'M NOT AS SMART AS YOU ASIANS. 'SIDES, I HAVE EYES."

This made sense to Komui. He figured that he should probably start using 'reviewing some statistics' reasonably soon. _Damn _Reever for being so smart and for having eyes. _Wait. What the hell? Eyes? _Komui glanced up at a corner of the room, and, sure enough a tiny camera winked back at him. _That fucking Australian._ Mentally cursing the man back to the land of down under, tears sprang to his eyes and he cried, "You installed a camera in my office!"

"YEP, I AM CURRENTLY ZOOMING IN ON YOUR LEFT NOSTORIL. NOW THE RIGHT. YOU DO HAVE A LOT OF NOSE HAIR. NOW YOUR RIGHT EAR. NOW YOUR MOUTH. HOLY SHIT! THEY LOOK SO SOFT! DO VASALINE THEM OR SOMTHING?" Reever sounded unsuitably _happy._ The man had installed a _camera_ in his office for crying out loud! He should sound at least a little ashamed of himself.  
Komui was slightly uncomfortable with Reever commentating on his face, "It's called chapstick. Vaseline tastes funny. And it doesn't smell nice." He muttered.

There was a silence on the line and Komui hoped that he had stunned the Auzzie with his come-back and then, more laughter. "YOU USE CHAPSTICK? THAT'S CLASSIC! I THOUGHT ONLY WOMAN USED CHAPSTICK."

Komui scowled. "Yeah well, whatever. Get back to work."

"GET BACK TO YOU DESK"

"Only if you get back to work."

"GET BACK TO YOUR DESK KOMUI"

The injustice of it all shocked Komui, "But I _need_ coffee, like, like Cross needs woman and alcohol! I cannot work without it!" He whined.

Reever was unmoved. "AND YOU CAN'T WORK WITH IT EITHER."

Komui opened his mouth to protest his innocence when Reever interrupted him, "I KNOW YOU KOMUI. DON'T EVEN TRY TO PROTEST YOUR INNOCENCE," there was a pause and then Reever spoke again, softer this time. "I'll get you your coffee Komui, your secretary will bring it in for you, NOW GET BACK TO YOUR DESK!"

There was a click and the booming voice of Reever disappeared from the room. _Gods fucking Australian, a hidden camera damn it. _Komui sighed and sloped back to his chair before slumping on the desk. "Cofffeeeee." He whined once more before spinning his chair to look out the window, deciding to count birds to pass the time. Although his window spanned the entire wall behind his desk and reached from ceiling to floor; only a small gap _of_ window could actually be seen, the rest was hidden behind letters and paper and coffee mugs that still had to be filed. All the same, he could still look out it and so began to count the things outside his window to pass the time.  
One pigeon.  
Two pigeons.  
Three pigeons.  
Three pigeons and one hawk.  
Two pigeons, one hawk, one dead pigeon.  
Two pigeons and one fat hawk.  
Two pigeons, one fat hawk and one helicopter with two twins with sewn together lips fighting over the controls.  
One helicopter with two twins with sewn together lips fighting over the controls and one very big heap of floating feathers.  
One helicopter with two twins with sewn together lips fighting over the controls and crashing into a building.  
_Boring!_  
"Urrghhh... I need some coffee. Bad." Komui turned to look at his office. _Or an escape route or a gun. _He thought to himself.  
There was a slight knock on the door and Komui quickly sat up and attempted to look busy. "Come in!" he called, fumbling with some papers. This _must_ be his promised coffee. There was a light creak and his secretary stepped into his office with a large silver tureen, more suited for a fancy soup party than his paper imploded office. It was to his credit that he managed to avoid sobbing and instead only looked bewildered instead.

The secretary noticed his confused look at the silver tureen she was holding and placed it on his desk. "Coffee." she explained with a cautious smile – she was new to this job and was still to get used to the odd ways of her new boss, and his even odder reactions. She had been desperate for money and the job paid relatively well for the work that she did. It was legal too, which was a bonus.

Komui was incredulous, and more than slightly shocked. He knew he had been desperate, but _this?_ "They gave me that much coffee?"

Instantly the secretary was worried. "Is it too much? Should I take it away?"

Komui took one look at his in tray, and then reached for the coffee tureen blinking away tears of happiness. "No, no!" He cried, "It is just what I wanted. Thank you SO MUCH!"

The woman blinked, taken aback by her boss's enthusiastic reaction. Still, she recovered gamely. "Um, o-okay. Uh, here is the ladle and - your sister said that the shot glass with 'Man whore' on it was your favourite glass - but I was a bit unsure and I asked the cook and he said to give you this mug instead." She unhooked the ladle hanging from her arm and the soup mug off it, giving it to her boss with an apprehensive look.

Komui ignored what she had been saying about shot glasses and men-prostitutes, instead choosing to focus on the coffee, the ladle and the soup mug. The soup mug had 'World's greatest brother' written on it in large writing and was, in fact, his actual favourite mug. He gave a sigh of bliss.  
"You even brought my special mug! Thank you! You get a pay rise, and _I _get a pay rise to pay for your pay rise!" Komui happily poured himself a ladle of coffee into his special mug and took a huge gulp; Burning his throat and tongue beyond eating capability but still worth it for the caffeine.

"Thank you sir?" She asked, unsure.

"No problem!" said Komui brightly, taking another large gulp of coffee, "You can go now."

The secretary backed out of the room quickly, already vowing to find a normal job. Which boss in the _world_ would give themselves a pay rise to pay for another person's pay rise? And that was just for giving the boss a tureen of coffee and his _favourite mug_. Yes, she decided, definitely time to find a normal job in a normal place. Perhaps the Mafia were hiring?

Unbeknownst to his secretary's '_time to find a normal job' _thought, Komui was happily drinking his coffee.

And then his intercom clicked.

"Yo! Komui!"

Komui banged his head on his desk, carefully avoiding both coffee and his hat. "Yes Lavi?" he said, resigned to the fate of talking to the red head.

"I've a just finished my mission, coming to H.Q now."

"Wonderful," muttered Komui dryly, coffee having restored his sanity, "is The Bookman there?"

"Yeah Panda's here, Yeah, Why? Do you wanna speak with him?" There was a yelp on the line as Lavi was hit on the head by the offended Bookman; it was widely known that he hated to be called anything other than Bookman or The Bookman.

"No I just want to make sure that he is still there and not dead or doing a Cross." Actually Bookman unnerved Komui, his weathered craggy face; eyes that actually _looked_ like a panda and personality were something that you did not want to cross.

"Doing a cross? Oh yeah, right, Cross. Nah, Panda's here." There was another yelp and a thump, the muted words of '_Stupid apprentice. Don't call me that_' could vaguely be heard on the other end of the line.

"Great." Said Komui without meaning it, "Anyway, when you get up here, can you come to my office; I need to talk to you about a couple of issues with your last mission, okay?"

"Great? Why great? Nah, never mind, anyway just getting into the lift at the moment, see ya's MuiMui!"

The intercom clicked off leaving Komui with a question and no answer, it went something along the lines of this; what type of nickname was _MuiMui_?

Komui sighed and rubbed his temples with his hands. Lavi was coming back, he had barely taken any time finishing mission and Komui was running out of ways to keep that damn boy away from his darling-

The intercom clicked again and Komui almost thumped his head on the desk again, until he heard the voice of the person on the other end.

"Brother! Are you there? It's me!" the incomparably bight a cheery tone of his beloved, darling sister floated like a sweet little bluebird from the intercom.

"Lenalee!" Komui lunged for the intercom and curled himself around it. "Of course I am here. Reever has practically got me under lock and key, he installed a camera in my office!" Komui let hurt and injustice colour his voice and managed to sound incredibly pathetic for a twenty-six year old man.

"That's lovely! I was just inquiring into whether you received you coffee!" Lenalee was unmoved by the (in) Justice committed by Reever and instead seemed focused on the caffeine habits of her brother.

"You were inquiring into my coffee and not how _I _am?" Komui was hurt by the indifferent way that he was being treated by his sister. He had no idea what he had done to upset her. All he had done was keep her away from the future rapists that were men. These men included Kanda and Lavi in particular. Not so much Kanda for all that he was straight but, Lavi. That rabbit Lavi who was somehow eluding Komui's every effort to keep him away from his darling, precious sister that was Lenalee.

"Yes! Yes I am inquiring into your coffee, brother, did you get it?" She said brightly.

"I got the tureen full of coffee and the ladle and the mug." Komui was now staring unhappily at the tureen full of hot coffee.

There was silence and then Lenalee spoke again, but she didn't sound bright, or cheery, or anything remotely resembling a bluebird. In fact she sounded quite flat, almost disbelieving. "A tureen. They gave you a _tureen_ full of coffee."

"Yes, why? Did you ask for something different?" Komui was confused, and let it show in his voice.

But it seemed Lenalee wasn't listening to her beloved brother. "I knew it. I knew that she wouldn't do what I said. I _told_ that bit- idiotic secretary about what to give you but, _nooo,_ she couldn't just do what I told her to and instead had to give you fuc-freaking tureen of coffee and a soup mug and it seems that NO ONE can do what they're told to around here and always have just got to not follow orders and just have to go get another fucking opinion! God. I have to do every. Fecking. Thing. Myself! "The words were delivered without little feeling and Komui winced at the sharpness of her words and at the tone of her voice, but most of all he was appalled by her use of language and send back a shocked reprimand.

"Lenalee! Language! That is terrible grammar! Run on sentences and everything!"

'Does it sound like I flecking care about fucking grammar to you!' she screamed, there was no hint of her usual sweet tone, in fact she sounded like a fishwife - screechy, annoying and all together intimidating; the desired effect.

"Oh, o-okay." Even to Komui his voice sounded small.

"Humph, whatever. Bye"

"No! Wait, Lenalee, wait." Komui cried, he had suddenly remembered that Lavi was coming up to H.Q and there was always the chance that The Bookman had gone straight to his room. This meant that Lavi and Lenalee might meet with no one around to chaperone them. Komui could not bear to think of what might occur if _that _happened.

"What?" said Lenalee aggressively.

"Um, uh, well, you see" gabbled Komui floundering for words.

"What is it Komui?" Lenalee suspicions were evident in her tone.

"Um, uh, I need advice on how to go about give a pay rise without lowering my wage." Komui of course already knew how to get about this, but for the purposes of keeping Lavi away from Lenalee, he would lie to his most beloved sister.  
His darling sister made a disgusted sound, "I'm sure that even some one as stupid as you can fucking work it out on your own, Huh? What do you need _me_ for? Later. I'm going out shopping, dickwad."

Komui let a frown cross his face, as much as he loved his sister, he felt that she was crossing the line. "Lenalee..." he warned, "I would like to think that as your brother I would let you get away with anything, but as your superior and head of the science division I cannot allow you to talk to me in that way and may I remind you that this is not your day off and so therefore I cannot allow you to go shopping until you are off duty. Please come and see me in my office. Now Lenalee; this is not a request, it is an order."

Lenalee growled. "Fine, whatever, I'm coming over."

And the intercom clicked off.

Komui sunk his head into his hands, rubbing his temples. He had no idea about what had caused Lenalee to become like this, but it was slightly upsetting him. Giving a sigh he reached for his coffee and the first of the papers in his in tray. He should at least make some sort of start. He had just found his pen when the intercom clicked again. Komui was beginning to think that he should disconnect the damn thing.

"Komui?" The nasal tones of the receptionist grated on his ears and he grunted a reply.  
"You there?" Obviously his non verbal communication has not enough for her and he had to reply with a reluctant "Yes. How can I help you?"  
"Yeah, anyways, I have, Like, an Allen Walker here. He says that Cross Marian sent him,"  
Komui frowned, Cross? Cross had an apprentice? Really? He began flipping through his in-tray looking for a letter that Cross sent him; Komui had a feeling that Cross had. "He's not dead is he? I'm mean, he _is_ human?" asked Komui, grinning triumphantly as he found a letter labelled; To Komui, with love, from Cross. Flipping it open he scanned the contents quickly, raising his eyebrow in surprise; Cross had sent Timcanpy with his apprentice, he had never known Cross to let Timcanpy go with anyone other than himself. The receptionist was still talking. "Oh. Nope, he is definitely human. Looks about, huh? What?"  
"How do you know for sure that he his Cross's apprentice? Has he got Timcanpy?" he interrupted, knowing that the woman would just keep talking.  
"He's got a mutt with a white cross on its face so Cross certainly sent him."  
"Good. Can you get Reever to find a room for him, by what I know of Cross we have probably got a new employee." Asked Komui idly filling his mug with more coffee.  
"Oh, okay. Yeah, Sure, Whatever, I'll get on it." There was another click and woman, and her voice, mercifully gone.

Rubbing his still painfully shrieking ears, Komui slumped in his chair, chugging coffee as if it was vodka. This just wasn't his day, but a glimmer of hope ran before his eyes, This Allen Walker was his escape route, his life belt, the person who would whisk Komui away from his office and live happily ever after until Reever started screaming at him, and or started installing security cameras just to keep an eye on him_. But... someone to take Allen Walker... yess._ Thought Komui, _that should do it_, _he would be perfect.  
_Chuckling evilly, he reached over to his intercom, and let his fingers fly, running over buttons call up the name of, _Kanda_...

~ Twelve minutes later~

"You said you wanted to see me?" Lenalee stood before Komui's desk with her arms folded and a glare in her eye, her skirt was so short as to be almost nonexistent and an expanse of white skin showed above the top of her black thigh high boots. Komui would wince, but that would only piss his lovely sister off further. He flicked his eyes to her tightly folded arms and let out a breath he didn't even know he held, _no clipboard, thank god._ He thought and then smiled bashfully in what he hoped was a cute way. "Yes. Yes I did want to see you, about a pay rise solution, but I've worked it out, like you said." Komui spread his hands in a disarmed gesture. Lenalee was not impressed.  
"So I can go now?" she said, shifting her weight to her other leg and tapping her foot impatiently.  
Komui blinked at her, just what _had_ he done wrong? Lenalee rolled her eyes, "What do you want, Brother?" she said as she inspected her fingernails and any spot of dirt she had left in them.

Komui sighed; it was time to get serious. "Lenalee, I need to talk to you, please take a seat." Placing his coffee cup aside, he steepled his fingers and looked over them at his sister.

"Alright, what is it?" Lenalee plonked herself in a chair and slouched. Her legs crossed and outstretched before her, the picture of teenage boredom, arms half folded and one finger tapping on her thigh.

"Lenalee sit up straight! That is an appalling posture!" Komui couldn't help himself and ended up sounding like a school mistress or the woman from the _June Dally Watkins _course; rather uptight with something stiff shoved up his arse. And no, it was not part of a man's anatomy.

Lenalee glared at him and swung herself into a picture perfect_ I'm a little school girl_ position. Back straight, feet and knees together, hands clasped neatly before her and a bright smile plastered on her face.  
"Happy now?" the bright smile looked odd compared to her venomous tone. She batted her eyelashes at her brother then swung back into her previous position.

Komui sighed and closed his eyes in resignation. His sister used to be so cute, what happened?  
"Thank you Lenalee. Now as I was saying -" Komui broke off suddenly, as his office door flew open and the only person capable of such exuberance bounded onto his office.

"Yo! Komui!"

"Lavi." Said Komui in resignation and rubbed his temples feeling a headache approaching, he then poured himself another mug of coffee, something that he felt the situation warranted. He thus failed to notice the way Lenalee immediately sat up a little straighter and subtly shifted her skirt so it sat slightly higher on her thighs. She then smiled vibrantly at her friend and fellow employee.

"Lavi, hi! Take a seat!" her voice once again fluttered like a bluebird, trilling to the tall, energetic, eighteen year old.  
Lavi grinned at her, his single gleaming green eye and black eye patch gave him a rakish look, something only extenuated by his messy flame red hair and the bandanna that barely contained it.  
"Sup Lenalee?" he took the chair next to her and leaned back in it in a relaxed manner. Komui wanted to glare; for all his efforts Lavi was somehow always able to be in the same room as his little sister, but at least he was able to chaperone her. He steeled his voice into a modicum of pleasantness.

"Ah. Lavi, what did you need me for?"

Lavi gave a shrug, "I've got no idea, you said you wanted to see me about some details concerning my last mission and here I am all," Lavi glanced down at himself, "neat and shiny." He gave a grin at the irony.  
Komui's eyes brightened with remembrance.  
"Ah, yes, do you know what caused the irregularity, and the reason why it took you less than a week to return from what should have been a _month long mission_."

Lavi gave a grin, a spark of 'mischief managed' lighting his eye. "Yeahhhhh... about that, the noises that they were hearing was just the heating gone wrong; nothing a few whacks of my hammer couldn't sort out and the chick decided that she really didn't need protection after all, said something about 'anything, or any one is better than you!' me 'n Panda decided that meant our bit was over."

Komui frowned distractedly, his mind chewing over the garbled information Lavi had just given him. "Are you sure that was a good idea Lavi? She had to be paranoid for a reason, no one would ask for our services for nothing, even if she decided that she was better off without you."  
Lavi gave an easy shrug, "It 'aint really well known, but the lady did take drugs when she was younger, been diagnosed with extreme paranoia and has had delusions before; it's been hushed up by practically everybody - 'specially the head honcho. But Me 'n Panda sent a seeker to watch over her in case there's some sorta truth to it."  
Komui nodded in approval. "Very good, Very good. But how did you know about the delusions, drug taking and paranoia, it's not really the sort of thing that a President wants people to know."

Lavi winked, or blinked at Komui (he couldn't really tell), and waved a hand in a casual manner. "Bookmen MuiMui, we're supposed to know – and it was on wiki-leaks. There's some serious crazy shit on there."

Komui gave a nod, ignoring the 'MuiMui' and the blatant swearing in an official report. "Alright, thank you Lavi, you may go now, Lenalee I will have to speak to you later; I'm expecting Kanda any second now with my escape rou, er, hemhem, our new employee."  
Neither Lavi nor Lenalee moved, in fact Lenalee looked positively ecstatic. Komui couldn't help but feel this eyeball twitch. "Out please you two." He repeated in what was a suitably commanding voice.

Again no one moved and Komui wanted to scream; his escape route was nearly here which meant that he could get out of his office in the first time in what felt like hours, on the other hand, the kid was also an apprentice of Cross which could only mean that he was a womanising as the fucker which meant that Lenalee would never be safe around him and both Lavi and his precious sister weren't leaving!  
Mental images of Cross's apprentice surfaced in his mind; a tall man with blond hair, blue eyes, wearing an expensive suit, packet of cigarettes in his pocket, a bottle of expensive red wine, a couple of loose woman hanging off him and his Lenalee being playboy-like mishandled while an ignored older brother was weeping in the background. NEVER!  
Komui began to lament his fate, _Oh why, oh why did Cross's apprentice have to come here!_

And then his door slammed open.

Komui bashed his head against the desk and then chugged down his coffee as Kanda entered his office, his approaching headache turned into a migraine. The surly faced Japanese 19 year old strode in; coat flapping at his ankles and his long black hair pulled into a tight high ponytail swishing dramatically, a side effect not necessarily desired.  
And he was alone.

Komui begged that his eyes were tricking him, what he needed was a glass of water, a packet of panadol and a gun; the water to dunk over his head, the panadol to throw at people and the gun to stroke. "Kanda, where is Allen Walker?"

"Hey Yuu!" grinned Lavi, "come and join us!", Lenalee smiled encouragingly while subtly sliding her skirt down so it looked like it was actually _there_. Kanda flicked his eyes towards the last remaining chair and gave a snort, choosing instead to lean on one wall of paper, on hand propped up on his knee, the other placed loosely on the handle of his katana.  
He completely ignored Komui.

"Kanda, I repeat. DID YOU PICK HIM UP?" Komui leant forward on his desk, knuckles white with the force of his desperately clenched fists.

A disdainful 'che' and a glare was all the answer Komui got. "KANDA! Do you realise that he could be out getting numerous female members of The Order pregnant right as we SPEAK!"

"So, why should I fucking care" the flatness of Kanda's tone almost surprised Komui, instead he opted to throw his pencil at the man.  
"If you did pick up Mr. Walker, Kanda, then where _is_ he?"

Kanda shrugged uncaring."I don't know. His fucking problem if he was stupid enough to get fucking lost."

Mentally Komui screamed at the black haired Jap. That was his escape route and Kanda had just _lost _it. This was not a good day and no one seemed to care. Lavi as grinning and watching the show, Lenalee was cleaning her finger nails and Kanda had just lost Komui's _escape route_. Allen Walker was probably out getting drunk, filling Komui's nice clean corridors with smoke, getting woman knocked up and racking up debts rather than in Komui's office where he could be use- There was a knock on the door and a bark.

Every one turned to look.

A small gloved hand appeared around the door. This was then followed by a head of white hair as Allen peered around the door and into the room. He was met by four faces and a camera. Allen licked dry lips, he had fallen behind the Japanese man and it had taken him numerous tries to find the right place.

"Is this Komui's office?" he asked, ignoring the fact that Tim was wriggling through his legs as he spoke.

Komui poured himself the last of the coffee in relief. His escape route was here and not lost, no thanks to Kanda. And, even better, was not tall, blond, blue eyed, drunk, smoking, had woman on his arm and he even seemed polite. This did not hold with what he knew of Cross, but the boy had Timcanpy, so Cross must have sent him.  
"You must be Allen Walker" he said, getting up from behind his desk and extending a hand towards Allen as the white haired teen came into the room, Tim collapsing onto the closest pile of papers.

"Yes, I'm Allen Walker. My master sent me here; he said that he would send a letter..." Allen trailed off looking quizzically at the beret wearing man.

"Yes I got Cross's letter. Funnily enough it had no return address." Komui returned to his desk and mentioned for Allen to take a seat where ever he could find it.

Allen smiled grimly. "That's Cross alright", his hands tightened momentarily on his sports bag strap and he choose the only available seat. "I doubt it had a stamp from the country we were in at the time either."

Komui nodded at Allen. "I should probably introduce you to the other people in this room, so I think I will. That red head over there is Lavi."

"Yo" said Lavi beamed at Allen madly, single eye gleaming.

"You have already met Kanda"

Kanda curled his lip in distain.

"And this beautiful young lady over here is my sister Lenalee"

"Hi" smiled Lenalee who had already pulled up her skirt and fluttered her fingers for good measure.

Allen returned their greetings politely while Timcanpy thumped the floor with his tail and grinned toothily.

"Now," Komui continued, "I am sure that you will get to know them better later on, but for now I need to talk to you about a particular person and various other things etc, etc, etc."

Allen nodded certain that this particular person would be Cross.

"Now, because some of the information I am about to tell you is quite sensitive, I need all of you, that is, Lavi, Kanda and Lenalee, to leave my office"

No one moved.

Lavi coughed.

Lenalee flicked her hair.

Komui glared.

Kanda glared back.

Lavi scratched his head and Lenalee rolled her eyes.

"Come on guys. I can always find out later." She sighed and got up out of her chair, grabbing Lavi's arm and pulled him along with her. Lavi protested loudly. She took no notice and Kanda followed with a sneer.

Komui sighed heavily; down to business. "Alright, you may know about us and you might not. But the main reason that I need to speak to you at the moment is about information about your master. Cross Marian." Komui adjusted his glasses and straightened his hat.

Allen held up a hand. "Before you go on, I would like to tell you that I have _no idea_ where Cross is and the last time I saw him he was and I quote "_whatever, don't fuck up or I will kill you." "But master, where will you go?" "A bar with a hookah and some decent whores."_ He then kicked me out of the house and onto a train. Oh, and he also gave me a letter. And the name of this city."

"Ah" said Komui, "May I have a look at it?" Allen passed it over wordlessly and Komui scanned it, "I guess that sorts that out then. As for the other matter..." Komui paused again and took a sip of coffee. "Okay, The Black Order Hotel is, the most famous of all the Millennium hotels, as you might well know. The science division is a part of it that's not well known by the general public. It's more what they call an 'urban legend' except for the fact we actually exist. The Earl, that is, the owner of the Millennium hotels, knows we exist; he didn't set us up, but he uses us sometimes, otherwise we don't have much to do with each other, despite the fact that we use his hotel as our 'H.Q' as such. We wage war daily against 'Akuma' or the demons of work. These are things like, being on hand as a body guards, being pest exterminators, waiters, cleaners, babysitters, entertainers for guests– generally just being on call at all times for everything. The work that we do can be divided into three sections, Scientists, Finders and Exorcists. Scientists develop tools to aid Finders and Exorcists, Finders aid Exorcists, and Exorcists have the starring role. The problem is, we never have enough Exorcists – some are not right, don't have the power or 'the innocence' as we call it. Finders we can get all the time but Exorcists, they're rare. Now if you choose to take up a job; you get room at the order, guest privileges, food and service. The pay is pretty good - It's $100 a day, regardless of whether you are on a 'mission' but, if you take up with us... it's basically for life."

"For life?" questioned Allen, frowning. The idea of being tied down to one job in one place frankly didn't appeal to him.

Komui grimaced, "Not really, you can leave if you want too, but as the ones who leave find it hard to get back on their feet, and most people find that this is a pretty yielding setup, so they stay on until they retire and we give them a retirement fund. They then live out in the country on the years of wages that they haven't spent. The other thing is; if you leave, we can't put it on your resume and we can't give you references either. If you leave, it's part of your contract that you cannot tell anyone about us. Truth be told Allen..." Komui spread his hands and shrugged. "If Cross went to the trouble of writing _me_ a letter, that means he's pretty, whatever the word is, about you taking up a job here. He's also reasonably sure about the fact that you will be an Exorcist and not just a Finder. Cross is an Exorcist too, but he disappeared couple of years ago and we've only been getting scattered reports. About the job- it's your choice."

Allen frowned and gnawed his bottom lip thinking it over; the job didn't sound too bad, reasonably good pay but the bit about 'for life and no references didn't appeal to him until he realised that he could probably spent one night in a casino and be set for the next three months. Plus if things got too bad, he could just disappear. He's done it once before; but the thing that clinched it for him was the fact that his bones felt weighed down by a lethargy that went beyond normal tiredness; it would be nice to stay in one place if only for a little while.

'I'll take the job." He said, nodding firmly and holding out his hand for Komui to shake.  
"Good man! Here, I'll give you a bit of a tour now, and explain some things on the way. My sister can show you around fully tomorrow once you aren't so wracked. You'll have to stay in the quest room tonight - yours won't be set up until tomorrow, may I ask what your favourite colour is? Are you okay with black?"

He got up eagerly and guided Allen to the door, shutting it firmly. He propelled Allen down the corridor and in the direction of the main common areas and dining hall. Komui had made his finally made his escape from his dreaded office.

Happy barks and yaps sounded from the office that they had just left behind and the secretary frowned worriedly at the paper explosions she could hear, but decided that it was probably dangerous and so should be ignored at all costs.

But the truth of the matter was this; they had shut Timcanpy in a room full of leather. There was going to be hell to pay once Komui got back.

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know that this was really long, but thanks for reading it, i hope you enjoyed it and FEED BACK! Read and reveiw.

Thats how it works. next redo - water colour god.


	4. Watercolour God

Alright! not much plot movement in this chapter but plenty on Allen's back ground.

Thank you to all the people who clicked the comment/review button. Too Many people to actually name all of them but, You guys know who you are so i salute you for commenting/ reviewing/ faving/ watching *SALUTE*

Disclaimer~ Okay Automated Disclaimer Bot (ADB) Showem what you're made for

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Thank you automated Disclaimer Bot. (I really should get that bug sorted out. It's kind of hard to read.)

chapter 188 of D.G.M FINALLY up on One Manga after a more than a half a year hiatus. HUZZAH!

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Chapter 4

The small light in the room silhouetted Allen's face as he lay on his side, his face shoved into his pillow. He moaned slightly in his sleep as his comfortable dreams of all you can eat mitrashi dango buffets slipped in to the realm of memories.

_~Flashback~_

"Mana?" The brown haired boy looked up at the clown, a question in his eyes.

"Yes Allen?" The clown smiled down at his ward and pocketed his juggling balls.

"Why do people find me scary? I'm not scary, why do people run away when they see me? Why do they run Mana?" Allen's six year old voice was plaintive with worry beyond his years. Mana sighed and sat down on a convenient rock. Allen sat beside him, arms around his legs.

"Allen you're not scary, they just don't know you, and they don't know who you are. That is why they run, Allen, not because you're scary, it is because they don't know you. People are scared of that, you see, when they don't know who you are. That is why they run Allen, that is all, because they are afraid." Mana placed a comforting hand on the small boys shoulder and smiled reassuringly at him.

Allen frowned, at these words and shook his head sadly. "It's my arm isn't it Mana? People are afraid of my arm." Allen looked down at his left arm, the red hand with its black finger nails, the cross and the gray skin at the shoulder. "Is that why my parents ran away? They were scared of my arm weren't they? They were sacred of my arm and my red hand and the green cross and the gay skin of my shoulder." The child's eyes were overbright, threatening silent tears. Mana looked at him, meeting his eyes.

"Yes Allen, they were sacred. They were scared by the fact that they didn't know you. They didn't know who you are. They didn't know know you Allen. Sure they were your parents, but they weren't your mummy and daddy who _do_know who you are. They weren't scared of your arm Allen, they weren't scared of your arm" Mana repeated the last statement firmly. Allen nodded at these sincere words and gave Mana a hug. Mana got to his knees and ruffled his wards hair, sure that the boy's worries had been put to rest.

All the same, he noticed that next morning, Allen wore long sleeves and a pair of gloves.

_~End Flashback~_

Allen's eyes blinked open.

"Mana" he whispered.

And fell back into his memories.

_~~~Flashback~~~_

"MANA!" The boy sobbed over the clown's broken body lying by the side of the road.

Mana looked faintly at Allen, a strange glaze coming into his poignant blue eyes.

"You have an aura around you Allen, it's so bright. So beautiful, an aura of pure. All white light. I wish I had an aura as pretty as that, it almost sparkles Allen, It almost sparkles"

Mana smiled beatifically at Allen, his strange smile scaring the ten year old boy.

"Mana, stop talking like that you're frightening me. Don't talk like that."

Mana continued to smile in that strange way. "I am going to die Allen, I think I am going to die, I just got hit by a road train and I don't feel any pain. It's funny Allen, You have an aura around you, it's so pretty, I wish I had one like yours."

Allen shook his head resolutely, scared by what Mana was saying

"No Mana, you're not going to die, don't die Mana, don't die."

"It's too late Allen, I'm too far gone. Such a pretty aura, such a big road train"

"Mana stop saying those things!" begged Allen

The clown closed his eyes gently, the smile still on his face. "Remember to practise you juggling" he murmured peacefully.

Mana's heart stopped beating and a heart rendering scream tore through the twilight that was descending on the land.

~After the funeral, twilight again, snowing and cold~

"Mana I miss you so much, I wish that you would come back. Why did you have to cross that road? I miss you Mana."

Allen sat before the grave of his mentor and adopted father. Memories floated before him, flashed through his mind like swallows. The snow fell gently on his kneeling body.

_Eight year old Allen sat before his mentor, wiping tears from his eyes._

"_Remember Allen, Words don't have power. Words have the power you give them, give the words power, and they will be powerful" Mana smiled down at his brown haired ward gently. "Don't give the words power over you by giving them that power"_

The smiling face of Mana floated before Allen. _Words have the power you give them... Giving them that power... give the words power, and they will be powerful. _

"That's it!" Gasped Allen, hope filled him like a beacon.

Placing both gloved hands on his mentor's grave he began to speak.

"Please Mana, wake up. Be alive again. Come back Mana, I don't know where to go, I don't know what to do. Please wake up Mana, please."

The words Allen spoke had no particular power attached to them, but it was as Mana said, it is not the words that have power, but the power you give the words and Allen placed all the strength and power of his eight year old self in those words and the power he gave them was infinite.

There was an answering rumble and the ground on top of mana's grave began to bulge and the newly laid turf stated to crack.

"Mana, wake up" breathed Allen, his power infused pleading finished.

A hand reached out from the ground, and then another, a head soon followed. Soon mana's entire body was standing in front of Allen. His breathing was rasping horribly in his throat, like finger nails on a chalkboard. His skin was waxy and the pallor of death held their mark on him, the snow that fell on him stayed frozen on his corpse cold body. The maggots and worms had not yet got to him, but even so time was degrading his body and his bones were stark against his wasted flesh. But Allen saw none of this; he only saw Mana's emaciated face, the ghost of a smile still on his lips.

"Allen" rasped Mana, his head lolled around to look at his forme ward.

"Mana!!!" Allen cried joyously. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled forward to embrace his resurrected mentor.

"No Allen" Mana's breath rattled in his throat has he spoke these halting words, his voice un-muffled by the snow that was falling. Allen halted, confused.

"Mana?" he asked cautiously

"What have you done?"

"I, I saved you" Allen stuttered. "I raised you"

"What have you done Allen!" Mana's scream was sudden and horrifying. Allen stumbled backwards at the onslaught of his terror, fear rising in his throat like bile, hot and bitter.

"You have condemned me! What have you done?" Hi screams rose ever higher, terrifying Allen

"No Mana! I saved you!" Cried Allen, his eyes were wide and his brown hair was flying wildly.

"Send me back Allen, Kill me, send me BACK!" Mana's hands flew forward reaching for the boy, trying to enclose his throat in their fingers, "I don't want to kill you Allen, SO SEND ME BACK!" The clown's screams were renting the twilight air just as Allen's had a week ago.

"No! I can't! I don't want to be alone again Mana! I'm not going to be alone again!" Allen scrambled backwards, still shaking his head wildly, oblivious to the fact that his legs were hot and damp from a fear relived bladder.

"Then I curse you Allen! I curse you. I CURSE YOU!"

A curse is a powerful thing, even more so is coming from Mana, no matter how dead. A flash of light from behind Allen's eyes stunned him, then pain lanced through his left eye and he blacked out. He fell in a heap at the foot of a black headstone.

A shot rang out in the night.

Someone screamed

And black crows tumbled from their nests too flee, like harbingers of doom.

"Stupid boy. You tried to raise him. Get up."

_~~~End flashback~~~_

"NO!!!" Allen sat bolt upright in bed, tumbled from his nightmarish memories and bathed in cold sweat.

Timcampy grumbled to himself as Allen's wayward left hand knocked him off the bed and onto the floor. Tim curled up where he lay and promptly started to snore. His paws twitching as he dreamt of biting off Kanda's leg.

Allen slid down the head board of his king sized bed and onto his pillow, the memories all too vivid in his mind's eye. He sighed heavily. He hoped that he would not relive anymore memories tonight but he was reluctant to go to sleep to find out. He glanced at the clock, expecting it to be about five am.

It was one in the morning

He moaned, the memories had begun earlier than usual. He looked at the clock again, one minute past one. Being far too early to get up and having no desire to go to sleep again, he picked up his pencils and drawing pad from the bedside table, turned on his lamp and began to draw.

Allen blinked groggily; there was a light shining in his eyes. He raised his hand to shield his face from the far too intense light while his eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in brightness.

"ARRRGHHHH!"

Allen had just stabbed himself in the eye with a paint brush.

"Owwwww" He whined softly to himself.

Allen sat up carefully. The drawing that he had finished and started water colouring was on his lap, his water colours and paint brushes on the bedside table, unwashed and not yet dry.

Allen had somehow managed to fall asleep while painting. He bent his head to look at the unfinished water colour. It was of a man, golden skinned and shirtless, he was standing in a fern frilled lagoon. Tawny bangs fell over a face whose eyes were closed and lips that were parted slightly, as if singing softly. Allen's breath stilled in his throat. This man was beautiful. He looked like a god. A golden skinned god.

Allen picked up his paint brush again.

The plants fringing the lagoon became shades of emerald, vibrant grass and vivid green. The lagoon became a shade of azure with soft light filtering through its waters. The blank space behind the golden man became a flowing waterfall that hinted of a secret hidden space beyond. The sky was black velvet speckled with silver pinpricks of light. The man's white shirt lay rumpled at the edge of the pool as if he had dropped it carelessly there before entering the water.

It was the best painting that Allen had ever done and he caught his breath as he held it up before him.

The memories would be worth it if he could paint even half this well afterwards. The completion of the painting had brought a strange, calm, peace like state on Allen. He expelled a long, satisfied sigh and tenderly placed the painting down where it would have no chance of being wreaked. He looked down to where Timcampy still slept and smiled gently to himself. He carefully picked up the puppy so as not to wake Tim and placed the canine down beside him before lying down and falling asleep.

Timcampy encircled in his arms.

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Alright! Read and review people, read and review.

First person to correctly identify the person that Allen has painted gets a Halloween cookie and a "special" mention.

Also while you are at it, check out my other fan-fiction. I don't think anyone one has seen it and it's kind of depressing *gloom*

On a brighter note, review and i'll give you a cookie. I also have set a standered. I need seven reviews to do another chapter so what ever you do don't click that BIG FAT REVIEW BUTTON.


	5. A Rather Tasty Hashbrown

Hey, welcome to chapter five of Join Me By The Pool Tonight, Thankyou to evry one who faved/reviewed/watched you guys all get a cookie, make it a christmas cookie, unless you're jewish, then it's a hunakah cookie, etc. All the same you get a cookie!

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~~~HUMBUGGY DOES NOT OWN .Man HAVING A WONDER FULL TIME BITCH, SO FUCK OFF YOU HARDBOILED CANDY~~~

I think the last part was reffering to me.

Any read on dear, wonderfull readers!

Oh yes and also a note, i have changed it slightly.

I've made it better.

Relax.

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Allen lined up at the counter in the food hall, his ticket proudly displaying the number 14 was clenched in his fist. He had been woken up at about six by an urgent rumble from the vicinity of his stomach .

The Food Hall had summoned him.

Unfortunately for Allen and everyone else, there was a ten person long line at the ticket counter and a twenty person long line at the food counter. Allen was now desperately hungry and trying his hardest to contain the earthquake sized rumble that was building in his stomach.

Four people to go

*Moan*

"_Oh gods." _

Three people to go.

*Groan*

"_Oh fuck"_

Two people to go.

*Growl*

"_Shit! Hurry up!"_

One person to go.

*Grumble*

"_Shit, fuck, shit, fuck , fuck ,fuck, shit, shitting shit. fuck, fuck, Fuck it."_

Allen's turn.

*RUMBLE!!!*

The noise reverberated around the room, growing in volume until all you could hear was the sound of Allen's stomach rumbling in a hungry call for food. It eventually died away like a yodellers call off a Swiss mountain top.

"_Lost it"_

Allen went beat red. This could not possibly get worse.

It did.

*Gurgle*

*Smash*

*Tinkle*

*Silence*

The entire dining hall was now staring at Allen gobsmacked. Then all eyes travelled slowly to the smashed remains of the full length window that made up the entirety of the 15 meter left wall. Then all eyes travelled slowly back to Allen.

Then back to the wall.

Then back to Allen.

Then back to the wall.

Then back to Allen.

Then back to the wall.

They did this for a full two minutes and then everyone calmly started eating again. Thoroughly embarrassed and more than slightly weirded out, Allen took his food ( Ten plates of Rice bubbles and a hash brown) from the counter and looked for an unoccupied table that was hopefully in the corner. All the tables had people sitting there, but there was one or two that only had one person sitting down. Allen headed for the one in the furthest corner that was out of the way. He weaved in and around the tables, trying to arrive at his destination as fast as possible before slowing down considerably as he reached the table. There really was no point in trying to hide that he was insanely embarrassed and more than slightly weirded out, but Allen would try anyway.

That persuado coolness lasted until he was actually standing there and his natural politeness overcame him. He hesitated, desperately wanting to sit down, but the man at the table hadn't even noticed him. It was, thought Allen, a growing trend in the Science division. People he _wanted_ to notice him didn't, while people Allen _didn't_ want to notice him did.

He was beginning to get really sick of it.

As he shifted from foot to foot, the man looked at him.

"Yes?"

The first thing that Allen saw about him was his abnormally long and sharp canines. Teeth that even Timcampy would be jealous of. The second thing was that his lips were really, really _red. _

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

The man, turned his head away from Allen to stare at someone/thing and nodded his head in reply.

"Thanks" Muttered Allen, feeling snubbed. "My name's Allen Walker, I just got here." Allen was if nothing, determined to get a reply of some degree of politeness as he sat his plate down in front of the stranger.

"Aleister Crowley" This time he didn't even turn his head. As Allen moved to sit down, a look of panic came across Aleister's face and he went whiter than his usual Edward Cullen whiteness. The whiteness pissed Allen off, he wasn't _that_ scary. For Goddess sakes, he'd only smashed a _window ._Really, some people.

"No, please don't sit there, uh, sit there instead." He franticly mentioned to the seat beside Allen.

"I'm sorry" Allen quickly moved his plate, but he couldn't help feeling some slight annoyance, If him sitting at this table was such a big deal, he would prefer it if Aleister just told him to go away.

"No, no, It's alright," Aleister waved his hand to indicate no hard feelings but then added in an under tone so Allen could barely hear it, "_It's just that you were blocking my view of her_."

_Oh, _Thought Allen, _So that's why. Weird._

He shifted in his seat to look at the woman that Aleister was staring at and saw her instantly. She was very beautiful. Tall with long blonde hair and creamy skin, she was incredibly well endowed, an E cup at least. Allen could understand accurately why Aleister was staring, she was exactly the type of woman that Master would have defiled within the hour. He shuddered, trying to shake off unwelcome memories. It was futile, already Allen was lost in a haze of cigar smoke, gauze veils, Hot-boxed rooms, earthy cries and bared skin. Oh yes, very unwelcome memories, already Allen was trying to resist gagging.

"Um, Allen, are you alright?" The depressing voice of Aleister wafted towards him and Allen came to with a start.

"What? Pardon, you were saying?" Allen blinked intently at the man, assuming a face of absolute awareness.

Aleister looked at him with narrowed eyes, not entirely fool by Allen's alert expression and repeated his question "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why? Did my hair go white?" Allen joked; trying to install some humour into what he could see was going to become an awkward moment.

Aleister looked at him oddly, a confused look on his face. "Your hair is already white,"

"Joke." Allen smiled in reassurance, it was a fake smile but Aleister couldn't tell the difference and he nodded in understanding before resuming his obsessive staring.

As Allen ate his breakfast, he studied Aleister, he had a thin almost mournful face that was white, as if he never really saw the sun. His hair was a dark, shiny black with a shock of white hair in a overlong cowlick, which, in addition to the red lips and sharp teeth, made him look decidedly vampirerish. No wonder he went for the blond with the smooth creamy neck.

With mouth watering unbearably, Allen started on his hash brown (with closed eyes and punctuating the gaps between bites with moans of happiness). He was swallowing the last delicious crumb of the mashed-and-fried-potato when a shadow fell upon him, stopping mid sigh, he opened his eyes wondering what they wanted. _Probably Aleister_ He thought. He was therefore reasonably surprised to see the blond stand before him, arms crossed over her chest, unwittingly accentuating the size of her breasts. She had a bored look on her face and Allen could now see the length of her slim, white legs. _Very long_ slim, white legs.

She glared at him. "You"

Allen gulped, he had no idea what he had done now, but he was going to deny anything, _anything ._It was absolutely NOT his fault that there was currently thirty people missing money from the lobby. He had NOTHING to do with it.

Allen had to resist the urge to cough extravagantly.

"How can I help you?" Allen smiled at her, _Look innocent, look innocent._

"Where is he?" the question was directed at Allen, who was still being glared at.

Wanting this scary yet beautiful person to leave him alone, Allen jumped to a quick conclusion that should effectively end the conversation. "I don't know where Cross is! Ask Komui! I am really sorry if he defiled you but there's nothing I can do about that and there is no way you could have had a kid by him so please don't ask for childcare money there is no point in trying to get money out of him as he is constantly in debt and I have to keep paying it so please talk to Komui if you need any information as I know nothing of his whereabouts and last time I saw him he was in turkey and now he is probably wanted there by now so he is probably in a different country by now and that was a _month_ ago so I am sorry but I know _nothing at all_." Allen finished his discourse and promptly stated panting. He has just said 131 words in the space of a minute and the blond was standing there with a bewildered look on her face.

"What. The. Fuck." She had by now, stopped glaring at Allen and was now staring at him, her mouth open and left eyebrow raised. "Who the hell is _Cross?"_

Allen blinked at her.

"Oh, so you're not looking for Cross?" Allen's voice was very small.

She began glaring at him again. "I just told you that I don't know who the hell this _Cross _person is, what do you think? Of course I'm not looking for whoever he is."

"Oh" Allen recovered quickly, "So you're looking for Aleister?"

"The vampirerish man with black hair with the white streak in it?"

Allen nodded in conformation "Yeah that's him," He turned to where Alastor was sitting and was taken aback at the emptiness of the seat, "what? Aleister was just there, where did he go? What the hell?" he looked up at the blond, apologetic. "Sorry, he was just there, I..."

The blond rolled her eyes, "Well it obvious that _you_ don't know so next time you see him, tell him that I said to tell you that next time he sees me, go over to me and _ask me OUT! _Got that? Good." Rolling her eyes she started walking away before she stopped and turned around, "And also, will you tell him my name's Eliande, okay?" Eliande then spun on her heal and left a shell-shocked Allen behind her.

As Allen slowly returned to normality, he felt the sudden need to get away from all this madness. It's not that he minded the all black decor, in fact he quite liked it, it was the strange _people _here. The outlandish chef, Jerry who was definitely gay and had pink hair, Aleister the staring vampire, the people who didn't even gasp when he smashed the dining room wall/window and left it open to the 39 story drop off the side of the hotel, to even the fact that the porter was _afraid_ of the very _name_ of theScience Division. Quite frankly in the sea of adnormality Allen was going to go mad. But there was _one_ saving grace for this place. The food was _damn _good. And just for that he was ready to stay for a little while. Or until the quality of the food went down.

And, with that decided, Allen picked up his tray and moved towards the food counter again. This time he was going to get_ two _hash browns and one for timcampy of course.

A well as a stack of pancakes.

Better make that six stacks.

* * *

R AND R people, read and review.

Dislike it? Dont rant. FLAME BUT DONT RANT!

A sencond thing is, i reather low on ideas for what could possibly happen in thenext chapter. Please feel free to send in you're ideas, all will be noted and replyed to. Infact dont just feel FREE, SEND THEM IN FOR THE LOVE OF THE GOD OR GODS THATYOU BELIVE IN!!!

A second thing is is that this particular story will be on hiatus untilla couple of days after the new year. I PROMISE!

Anyway, Press that review button , you know you want to....

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PREEEESSSSS IIIITTTTTT!


	6. A Hobo Transformation

Tyki gave a heavy sigh, checked his keys, wallet and phone one more time before he slung a heavy canvas duffle bag over his shoulder. It would probably make more sense to change now, rather than later, but walking around dressed in tails and a top-hat at this time of evening was not a good idea in his district, better to look like a hobo. He shut the door firmly behind him having to wriggle the key in the lock for about a minute before it clicked. It was then that he realised that he had left his hat in his apartment.  
Damn.  
He glanced about, stuck his key in the lock, and glanced about again. He turned his back to the door and began to bash the door in, swinging his bent leg in a pendulum like motion. It flew open with a bang that left the door and walls shuddering. Picking his top-hat off the floor, he blew the dirt off it before striding out and yanking the key out of the lock, slamming the door shut behind him. The walls vibrated and an irritated 'Oi!' sound from the apartment across from him. Flipping his hair out of his eyes, he absentmindedly avoided the puddles of piss and dried blood stains in the hallway and waited for the lift.

It arrived with much clunking and the doors vibrated as they opened, sending some used and discarded syringes rolling over the evil looking floor. Tyki glanced at the syringes and the gaps in the plywood walling; through which there was only an abyss of darkness and an untimely end. He opted for the stairs; they were relatively safer. Tyki may have had a slightly warped sense of what was dangerous, but it didn't mean that he was a complete idiot. He could hear the clunk and shudder of the lift as it made its way up to some other unsuspecting individual.

His foots steps echoed as the scuffed, heavy-soled boots thudded down the concrete stairs. Tyki glanced at his watch and his golden eyes gleamed with pleasure.  
"Good, 6:30. At any rate I'll be late, or at least annoying." He spoke aloud for no other reason than to hear his voice reverberate down the stairwell. He laughed to himself as he restrained the urge to call out 'echo' and opted for humming instead. The sound of his shoes made a nice beat behind the tune and he continued to hum as he stepped down several more flights of stairs.

The heavy, scraping squeals of an opening fire door sounded somewhere above him and he stopped humming abruptly as footsteps followed the sound. He was fine with looking like a hobo; looking like an insane hobo he was not. Nodding a greeting to the doorman who was employed for no other reason than keeping the homeless from sleeping in the relative safety of the putrid smelling foyer, he entered on to the street. It would be the state of the traffic would be the decider in whether he would take a taxi or walk. The reaching heat hit him like a wave, carrying the scent of the car exhaust and cigarette smoke that was guaranteed when one lived in the city, on the outskirts of the red light district. The heat lines were visible as they shimmered off the cars, it was peak hour traffic and the massive traffic jam snarled and rumbled like an angry beast. The corner of Tyki's mouth lifted in a wry smile and he hailed a taxi.

Tyki slung his duffle bag off as he slid onto the cool back seat of the orange cab. The driver turned to face him with a dubious look on his face, jiggling a leg as he did, as if he had gone over the legal limit to energy drinks and now could not stay still.  
"Where too, uh, _sir_?" The driver licked dry lips and Tyki didn't miss the hesitation before sir. He didn't resent the driver; in his current state of dress it was an easy mistake to make. He let the matter pass, instead deciding to tie back his tawny shoulder length hair into a queue.

"The Black Order Hotel, if that's alright with you?" Tyki leant over and started rooting in his duffle bag for his wallet. The Taxi driver frowned at him looking cautious, leg still jiggling twitchily.  
"Um, yeah. Well, see the thing is..." the driver trailed away as Tyki glanced at him, eyebrow raised inquiringly. He continued on a little hurriedly, fingers jiggling now, not wanting to offend his customer, "That place is a little, expensive. I mean, it's the _Black Order hotel_, can you even afford the cab fare?"

The taxi had not moved from its spot on the curve and Tyki's eyes glinted with suppressed amusement. He slid four 50 dollar notes from his wallet and offered them to the driver. "I can pay now, if you'd like. Or do you take credit card, Platinum?"

The driver stared at Tyki with astonished eyes and then burst out laughing, a broad grin spread on his face. "That should more than do it. A rich hobo, who would think!" He guffawed loudly as he shoved the taxi into the traffic, beer belly wobbling in combined mirth. Tyki felt his face move into an answering grin, one that was, perhaps, slower and more dangerous that the cabbie's, but there was humour behind it all the same. Just not for the same reasons as the cab driver.

To think that Tyki was a Hobo who, by some strange twist of fate, had come across a lot of money would be to make a wrong assumption. Tyki was a rich person who liked dressing up as a hobo because it was safer and hobo clothing was strangely comfortable. If anyone asked Tyki why he knew that ripped, faded, hobo clothing was so comfortable in the first place they probably would not get a straight answer. If fact they probably wouldn't get an answer at all.

Tyki would give his slow beguiling smile, whisper something in their ear in a husky voice, pour them an incredibly alcoholic drink, and invite them to a friendly game of cards where they would lose all the money in their pockets. They would also wake up the next morning with absolutely no memory of the previous night, but with a mild hangover and feeling like they had been fucked for most of the night - But it would be less a feeling of having been subjected to Tyki's 'affections' and more of a concrete fact. Of course the latter depended on how Tyki had been feeling at that point in time and on the persons looks. Not on your gender. Tyki had no real preference but found males that much more fun. Not that he would be discriminate if there was a woman there of course. Tyki was nothing if not a gentleman. He would also never answer your question because it was precisely that question which touched upon a past that he would prefer to not discuss with anyone or indeed, prefer to forget.

He had not always been rich; in fact he had not always had a family. There had been a period of about one to two years in his life where he had been an orphan in all but the strictness sense –h is parents had not died leaving him with no family, but he had in fact been disowned.

From the time that he was ten, Tyki's blood parents, middle class citizens and devout Christians, had failed to control their increasingly wayward son. By the time he was fourteen, he had begun to run away from home; not coming home from school and sneaking back into the house just before dawn the next day, smelling of beer and hard partying. A month before his sixteenth birthday he could be missing for days at a time, turning up in the middle of the night and climbing a tree to his bedroom window which was always left unlocked. Six years ago, things came to a head three weeks after his sixteenth birthday,

Tyki's parents came home early from a long weekend away to find their house in shambles; drunken and hung-over teens were lying all over and their only child was in their bed with two other boys and one girl – all with nothing on.  
That was also the last time that they spoke to him, leaving only a condemning silence that ran throughout the house, taut and thin, like a rubber band stretched too far. Two days later Tyki left the house at dawn, taking with him the entire contents of his uni fund and combined bank account. As well as some clothes and a blanket; he took his laptop and iPod, selling his CD player the day before at Cash Converters. These he stuck in a duffle bag, the same one that he carried now in the Taxi. That was the last time he ever saw his family. They never went to the police, or filed a missing person report – as far as they were concerned, they had never had a son. Tyki lived on the streets for a year and a half. It was a source of pride for him that he managed to stay relatively clean; he didn't do drugs, and didn't turn to much crime.

Thanks to his laptop, he managed to earn himself some cash. Not enough for a decent living off the streets, but enough for food that wasn't Mc Donald's or KFC, as well as other necessities that were needed to be able to walk around without people looking at him suspiciously. At the start he did frequent soup kitchens and Salvation Army free food markets, but things improved when he made his street friends and they got a system going. Tyki with his small hacking business would pay for the food; in return Ghar and his partner, the only girl in the group- Lief, were the protectors of the group. Ghar with his large stature was a formidable foe while Leif was a master of the weapons, their black market acquired daggers and gun as well as Lief's prized katana and broad sword meant that the group was reasonably safe from some of the larger boss gangs that roamed the streets, while Chase with his myriad of contacts could find them a safe place to sleep with a single word to someone.

They were not a gang with members, but a group of people who trusted and depended on each other for survival in the harsh reality of street life. They were all there by choice, but unlike most, they were clean– escaping from abusive family or having been disowned from their family. Chase had been born on the streets, but his mother and father had managed to shield him from most of the harshness of the street and his natural charisma meant that he could talk to almost anyone. Ghar had left home after his mother had died and his father started drinking. Lief didn't talk much about her back ground; she was the daughter of the 'father' of the largest crime gang in Sydney. This background was the reason why she had her skill with the group's weapons. She, like Tyki, had been disowned from her family but unlike Tyki she refused to tell the group why. Only Ghar knew and his loyalty to Lief was unshakable.

When his adopted family had gotten Tyki off the streets, he had attempted to help get his friends off the streets as well. He had done reasonably well; Ghar and Lief now ran a self defence/martial combat/weaponry combat business in Melbourne while Chase had found an undiscovered talent in the matchmaking industry in London. Tyki had seen Ghar and Lief quite recently; they were now expecting their first child, a girl.

It had not been easy, nor comfortable, but he had gotten by well enough and there were times that Tyki looked back on with some fondness and there were things that he would take with him from that time, such as his appreciation for people who you could trust and depend on, but overall he disliked looking back on those days, even through his acquired taste for freedom was still with him to this day. This meant he disliked anything that intruded upon his freedom or anyone who put him on a leash or tried to get him to jump through hoops.

Unfortunately , 'Family meetings' fell into this category .The meetings were mandatory and if you missed one for any other reason than dying or being in a coma nothing you did would be able to stop the hell on earth that was to follow. It usually meant nephew sitting the twins to keep them out of trouble. Jasdero and Davit delighted in nothing but pure, flame blazing anarchy - Hell on earth personified.

Though Tyki sometimes thought that it would be worth putting up with the twins just to avoid the meetings, he knew that that his 'Uncle', the Earl, would just get worse. Besides Tyki knew that he had a 'duty of loyalty' or some shit to the Earl because it was the Earl who had gotten him off the streets and given him a home, a purpose and a 'family'. Albeit a slightly strange, twisted family, but a 'family' nonetheless. Of course Tyki hadn't really known what he was getting himself into when the Earl had (literally) rescued him from the gutter where he had been lying after somehow getting mixed up in a street fight - Ghar and Lief had been on the other side of the city, retrieving new blades from a lucrative arms deal and were too far away to help.

Tyki could just remember the 'conversation' that they had in the gutter; he remembered how the man's wide-grinning, spectacled head swam into view and how the Earl poked him with an umbrella after every sentence.

_*Poke, poke*_

"_Ehhh? " *moan*_

"_Hello."_

"_uuuhhh."_

"_But of course you can!" *Poke, poke*_

"_Aghhh."_

"_But of course you can stay!" *poke, poke*_

"_Huhh?"_

After that Tyki remembered being swung over the Earl's shoulder before everything went a little dim.

The Earl had no blood ties to Tyki, in fact none of Tyki's 'siblings' did. All of them were adopted by the Earl who was the self professed Uncle of his family, The Noah. When Tyki had woken up in a room in the Noah family mansion, the first thing he saw was rather fat, creepily grinning man sitting in a chair beside his bed. His first thought had been, "Fuck he's weird." With the second being "what's with the top hat." The third thought was, "Have I been raped?' and then, finally, "where the bloody hell am I?". He met the rest of the Noah soon after. The adorable if twisted Rhode who had a thing about the Earls umbrella and called it Lero; the insane Twins who like to be called Jasdevi even through their real names were Jasdero and Davit; Skin who ate way too many sweets and had his own chair at his dentist; and Lulubelle who was just a bitch. There were also a couple of others, but they were off in Spain or something and Shyrle was creepy in a slimy "I raped your babies in your sleep" kind of way. Tyki called them all Cousins, nieces or nephew's because he thought that it was weird to call them brother or sister.

It wasn't until later that he found out that the Noah family was richer than Bill Gates and the Value of the Apple Company combined with a string of varied businesses and hotels. He had become part of the Noah about six years ago, he was now 23 and living in an apartment in the bad part of town, out of choice.

As much as Tyki loved most of his adoptive family, he had the vaguest feeling that if he stay with them for more than a week or two at most, he would be pronounced psychotic and sent to a loony bin to live out the rest of his days wearing a straight jacket in a padded room. Besides, living in the bad part of town had its pluses. For a start, none of his family sprung surprise visits on him – which could only be for the good. It didn't however stop spring family meetings on him – which could only be for the bad because when the Earl called a meeting; it meant that he wanted to meddle and when the Earl meddle it meant that some serious shit was going to hit the roof.

The driver continued to tap out small rhythms on the wheel, occasionally giving his head a little shake, like a dog with something in its' ear. Tyki sighed, stretched out and gave a yawn. The baggy sleeves of his once-used-to-be-rainbow-tie-dye-but-now-looks-more-like-dirt, but deceptively clean hobo shirt fell back to expose the rolled sleeves of his white dress shirt. The Taxi Slugged a long in the orange heat haze of the setting sun, the shadows of the gray-black apartment blocks grew long, like watching sentinels, heralds of the time when the underbelly of the city comes out to play. Tyki ran his hands down his black pants and glanced at his watch, wrinkling his nose at the time. This was taking longer than he first thought, he had only meant to annoy his family a little bit, not seriously piss them off. On the plus side- wait, there was no plus side. Damn.  
Tyki couldn't tell for sure, but he had a feeling that the driver kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of his eyes. He shrugged mentally; people were entitled to look after all, if they wanted to, at risk of attracting Tyki's own brand of "attention". But this driver was safe for now, he wasn't exactly what one would call good looking but even in the driver was good looking, he would probably still be safe. Tyki had lost interest; people were interested in him, but not the other way around. It was just too plain repetitive. He hadn't felt like it for a couple of weeks, it had been a month maybe two since he had last felt like it. But he was fine, perfectly _fine_. He restrained a sigh, and looked out the window; the driver still sneaking glances at him. After more than a minute of this, it was getting kind of annoying, Tyki cocked an inquiring look at the driver.  
"Is there something on my face?"  
The driver flushed and began to jiggle his leg nervously again. Tyki waited patiently for an answer as the driver hesitated then lowed on, seeming determined to get an answer for his unasked question.  
"Are you, by any chance Mikky?" The cab was filled with a nervous beat. A thrum, a tap, a shudder of nervousness. Tyki wanted to sigh again at the mention of his other alias. Instead he twisted his lips into the semblance of a smile, pretending wry abashment.  
"How did you know? What gave the game up?"  
The driver gave a relived smile, the beat filling the taxi stopped abruptly as he explained. "It was your glasses; my mates (both cabbies) and I play a game, well it's less of a game as such, My name's seeker by the way, we see who taxi's the oddest or most unusual person during their week and then the person who taxied the weirdest person get brought around. Bud won a couple of weeks back; he described a rich aristocrat named Mikky, who read in his cab but wore the thickest swirliest pair of classes he had ever seen, all misty and funny; very distinct apparently, a pair exactly like yours."  
Tyki gave a shamefaced laugh- a real one this time, "I have to look out for that, usually I wear a different pair if I'm not going hobo, but I must have forgotten that time. Interesting game you guys play through, see anyone who might let you win this week?"  
The driver brightened and nodded enthusiastically and began to talk about some you-old looking person with a British accent. Tyki wasn't listening, he was too busy staring at the texted he had just received.  
**Tyki, where r u? Earl's V. Pissed. He's got his angry smile + his nose is all red. Twins looking gleeful. If ur not in a coma, u better get over here. NOW!  
Rhode.  
P.s Earl has decided to wait for you. Skin and Lulu not happy**

Shit. Shit. _Shit._  
Tyki swore out loud, causing the driver to break off mid sentence to look at him apprehensively.  
"Seeker, I'll give you twice your normal months pay if you get me to the Black Order, _now._"_  
_Seeker frowned for one second the clicked the right hind indicator, sliding the cab into a very fast if choppy right turn. "Sure, but what's the hurry?" He asked, "You seemed perfectly relaxed a second ago."  
"I'm late for a meeting with my family, the Noah." Tyki replied, pulling off his hobo shirt to revel the white dress shirt underneath. He rolled down the sleeve, flipping over the cuffs so they lay flat. Seeker yelped.  
"The Noah! Your family's the Noah! Shit! Wait- you're _Tyki Mikk; _ owner of _The Tease_. Fuck. Why didn't you say so?'  
Tyki shrugged, bending down to remove his boots. "Just easier."  
Seeker shook his head as he reached for the glove box. "At least I have this, more than paid me back for the price." He flicked a switch and stuck the wailing, flashing blue light onto the outside roof of the cab. Tyki was slammed into the back seat of the cab as the taxi screamed forward, mounting the side walk if the cars in front didn't immediately get out of the way. Tyki furrowed his brow as he reached for his duffle bag to continue his transformation.

A couple of minutes later a taxi screeched to a halt in front of the Black Order Hotel. An aristocratic man with a top hat stuck crookedly on his head, wearing misty classed and carrying a duffle bag that trailed the sleave of an old tie die shirt stepped out, his long legs carrying him up the steps and into the hotel as fast as they gracefully could.

Inside the taxi Seeker swore bitterly, staring at the space were the man had been just a few seconds ago. He hadn't collected his taxi fare. Aww _Fuckkk._ The wife was going to beat him tonight.


End file.
